


It's All About Homecoming Night

by princessmera



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fix-It, He Still Sucks, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, bryce is not redeemed sorry, bryce lives sadly, jess and justin centric, just like he did moments before he died
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 10:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21408688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessmera/pseuds/princessmera
Summary: “We’re gonna take you to the hospital,” he told him, “and we’re gonna drop you off, and you’re not gonna say a fucking word about it to anyone. Got it?" The night Bryce Walker was murdered, Jessica called Justin five times and he never picked up. But what if he had? What if not only had he answered when she needed him, but he went with her to see Bryce? - A look at how everything could have been different if one small thing had changed.
Relationships: Jessica Davis/Justin Foley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	It's All About Homecoming Night

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: this show is not mine obviously but i would give anything to take jess and justin out and put them in a much more acclaimed, less problematic show
> 
> this is my long and random exploration of how homecoming night could have gone had justin answered jess' phone calls. it includes some unnecessary conversations that we deserved to see but never got *cough* aftermath of the homecoming interruption *cough* and some secrets that were bound to come out. 
> 
> enjoy! read and review! i live for feedback.

He searched the pocket of his jacket for the lighter he always kept in it. Kept for this exact reason. He swore under his breath and grew rather desperate to find it, swapping pockets and searching the other. He came up empty handed, letting out a sigh. For the fourth time tonight his phone vibrated in his pocket, and as quickly as his frustration had grown over the missing lighter, it simmered as he realised he would have to go looking for another one before he took anything tonight.

Taking out his phone he saw Jess’ name flash across the screen. He let it ring a moment before he answered. If it was her who had called him the previous three times, he realised she must have been desperate.

“Jess, hey… Wha-what’s up?” He sighed, realising he probably sounded suspicious. Jess wasn’t in the mood for small talk though, she ignored him completely.

“Justin, are you busy right now?” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. His concern grew, and suddenly getting high was the last thing on his mind. He looked around the dark, barely lit docks, and crumpled the foil in his hand. It could wait.

“No, not really. Why?”

“I need you to help me with something. It has to do with Bryce.” He ran a hand over his face. His heartbeat increased slightly as he thought about how angry Bryce had been at Homecoming.

“Jess, wait. Did he hurt you? What happened?” Her voice came slowly through the phone.

“No, I’m fine. I just… I saw him before the game. He texted me. He said has something he wants to give me, I don’t–I don’t know what, but, he said he would be at Navy Pier. I wanna go. I want to know what it is.” The line went quiet for a moment. “Will you come with me? Please?” He let out a short breath.

“Fuck,” he didn’t know why he was whispering like she was now, “yeah, Jess, of course. Of course I’ll come. Now?”

“Yeah. Now. Can you pick me up? My dad thinks I’m asleep.” He stared out into the dark. Clay had the car. He had walked to the docks from Liberty after the game.

“I don’t have a car. Can we take yours?” Jess sighed.

“Fuck. All right. I think my parents are asleep anyway. I’ll sneak out to pick you up. Are you at home?” He bit his lip, debating whether he was honest or not. Shoving the drugs into his bag, he began to stand up.

“No, I’m… near Rosie’s Diner. We had a team thing.” He shut his eyes tightly as he told the blatant lie. A lie that she so easily could have debunked, but didn’t, because she trusted him, and somehow that made him feel worse. Rosie’s wasn’t too far a walk from the docks. He would be able to make it there before her without looking guilty of a lie.

“Okay. I’ll be there in like, ten minutes. Thank you.” He smiled to himself at the sound of her grateful voice.

“Of course. I’ll see you in ten.”

He walked and walked. The path was illuminated by streetlights the whole way, but he felt like he was wandering in a trance. Everything he passed looked the same, he never focused on it, too caught up in his own head. His thoughts, his mind, spiralled almost to the point of insanity. All he knew was his destination, and the only other thing he knew for sure was that his secrets–and his addiction–could have cost him dearly if he had ignored that phone call. What if Jess had given up on him? What if she had decided to go alone, and Bryce had lashed out, and he took revenge against the girl who he believed ruined his life? Justin would never have forgiven himself. Just like he never forgave himself the first time Bryce had hurt Jess. It still made his blood boil, just to think for even a moment. He hated Bryce for what occurred that night, but he hated himself more, because deep down maybe he knew his best friend was capable of such cruelty but he just didn’t want to believe it. Maybe it was his fault. Every girl Bryce had assaulted, was it Justin’s fault? His fault for not suspecting it sooner, for believing Bryce’s ‘hook up’ stories, for thinking he was protecting Jess when really he was letting a rapist walk free.

The more his thoughts caught up to him, the deeper they went, the more desperate he became for relief. He just wanted the guilt to go away. He wanted to get high, he wanted to get so fucking high that maybe he didn’t have to live with that pain, that knowing. He didn’t have to live at all.

The first car he saw for the night sped past, and he shielded his eyes from the beaming headlights. It was enough to blind him momentarily, to make him pause in his tracks not only physically but mentally, as he realised how ridiculous he sounded. You’re being fucking stupid, he thought. He had so much to live for now. He had a family, he had friends, he had Clay. Most importantly, he had Jess, and she counted for at least a million and one reasons to live. Because he wanted to live, he had always wanted to live, even if he slipped up now and then.

When the car passed, so did his thoughts. He was exhausted from the Homecoming game, not just from playing, but from the stress of seeing the fight that broke out on the field, of being in it, of starting it, and he had never even gotten to see Jess after it was over. The whole night had left him fucked up. With Bryce being back at Liberty for a night, with their past, he desperately hoped Bryce wouldn’t try to talk to him. He and Zach had tried to stay far away from Bryce that night, before, during and after the game. Zach had failed on that front, and now he was in the hospital, and Justin felt like maybe he had caused that when he separated Clay and Bryce during the fight. Then there was the issue of Clay, who he had never seen that violent and inconsolable before in his life. The anger he saw in Clay’s eyes was the same anger Justin had felt that night at Bryce’s when he finally told Jessica the truth. He didn’t think he wanted to know what had caused Clay to feel that way, at least not tonight.

When Rosie’s Diner came into view up ahead, he could feel the weight lift off his shoulders. He had made it there before Jess, and luckily for him the Diner was still open. One of these days his lies would all catch up and it was going to hit him like a hurricane, but until then, the lies would just keep piling up and up and he would just let them. It seemed like every single day he would wake up and decide that today he was going to tell the truth, he was going to fix his life, but then it became too much. He would talk to Jess, and realise how much it was going to hurt her to find out he was using, or that he was getting his drugs from Bryce. He would accept breakfast from Laine and Matt, and imagine the hurt in their eyes as he told them, the look of bitterness as they sent him away. Away away, back on the streets perhaps, anywhere except their home where they had welcomed him with open arms under the impression that he was a recovered addict, not some useless junkie.

He sat on the bench outside the Diner, waiting for Jess, his head in his hands. When she pulled up, with the headlights of her car shining past him and into the Diner, Justin stood up but she shut off the car just as quickly. The car door opened and Jess appeared, the Rosie’s sign only just lighting up the apprehensive look on her expression. She took four steps toward him and before he could even think of moving, she threw her arms around him. They stood on the sidewalk, his arms wrapped around her and her face buried in his shoulder.

“Jess,” he said softly, “are you okay?” She nodded into his shoulder, but he didn’t know if she was crying or not. When he kissed her hair, she stirred, finally moving around to look up at him.

“Thank you for picking up–“

“Jess, fuck, I’m sorry I didn’t answer before I just–“ She shook her head and he stopped mid sentence.

“Forget it, I’m just glad you picked up when you did.” Biting her lip, she looked around to see if anyone saw them. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t.” He quickly kissed her forehead.

“C’mon, I’ll drive.” She pressed the car keys into the palm of his hand, and took one last glance at their surroundings. They were completely alone.

He backed Jess’ car out of the Rosie’s parking lot, watching his girlfriend’s darkened demeanour. She stared out the window into the pitch black.

“Shit, Jess,” he looked over at her, smiling, “you were so fucking badass tonight. I’m so proud of you.” The scowl on her face broke into a small smile.

“Really?” She asked him. “It felt great, honestly. I’m so glad I did it.” He reached out and touched her hand, holding it for a brief moment.

“Those cops didn’t hurt you at all, did they?” She studied his hand as it held hers, she cupped her other hand around it and lightly traced her fingers over his.

“No. They were rough, like unnecessarily rough, but they didn’t hurt me.” Justin scowled.

“They should have gone after that fucking Hillcrest player who groped you,” he said, “what the fuck was his problem?”

“God,” she sighed, “so fucked up.” She looked over at him from the corner of her eye. “It was also pretty fucking badass when you started that fight on the field.” He smiled for a moment, but then his expression dropped.

“No it wasn’t. Lots of players got hurt. Zach’s knee is broken, he’s out of play for the rest of the year. All because I ran onto that field, and I know you hate it when I fight your fights for you. I’m sorry. I ruined your protest.” Jess’ grip on his hand tightened.

“What? No, you didn’t ruin it. People are talking about it, that’s all we wanted. Besides, that guy was a footballer and I was in my underwear, I’d struggle to even take him on fully clothed.” He gave a short, breathless laugh.

“I’m sure you would have had him running in fear.” She smirked, looking out the window and watching the dim streetlights they passed. Still holding his hand between hers, she studied the bruises on his knuckles from the fight. They were darkening, like ink smudges over his hand. She looked over at the other hand, on the steering wheel, and saw that it looked worse. “Can I ask you something?” He inquired, his voice soft. She nodded, her eyes still taking in all the marks on his hand. “You said that all jocks are bullies, and that you hate them… Do you, and the rest of HO, hate me? Do you think I’m a bully? By like, being a jock, and playing football?” She let out a short breath.

“Justin, did you just ask me if I hate you?” She asked, her tone lighter than he had expected. “It’s almost 12am, I’m about to see my rapist and you were the only person I thought to bring with me. I think that’s like, the opposite of hate.” The opposite of hate was love, she just couldn’t bring herself to say it yet. He knew she couldn’t. If she said it, her whole identity was a lie. Everything she was, and everything she wanted to be, was standing between them. “As for the rest of HO, well, Tyler doesn’t hate you. But, uh, I don’t think the others are big fans after hearing the tapes. But, fuck whatever they think. You always told me that it didn’t matter what other people thought, what they said, what they made up, because fuck them, as long as we know the truth, that’s all that matters.” He tightened his hold on her hand. Glancing over as she continued, his eyes were almost teary, she knew his expressions well, and she knew when they were a facade. “But I don’t think you’re a bully. At all. Ever. What kind of awful person would I be if we were dating and I thought you were a bully? That’s just hypocritical. Besides, you told me you don’t even consider yourself a jock. It’s just a dumb stereotype. Playing a sport doesn’t make you a jock, it makes you an athlete… being a jock is a culture, it’s implicit with bullying and rape culture.”

“But, aren’t I complacent, or whatever, with rape culture, after what I did to you?” She huffed.

“Why are we talking about this?” He shrugged, watching the road ahead.

“I just… I thought, that guy who grabbed you… a year ago, do you think that could have been me? Doing shit like that to look cool, and impress a fucking rapist, like I used to?” Jess watched him, but their eyes never met. He couldn’t face her.

“That never would have been you. You did some… shitty things. So did I. But those Hillcrest players are entitled and used to just taking whatever they fucking want, regardless of the consequences. Just like Bryce was.” She swallowed in the silence, the air was tense at the mention of Bryce. “You were never like that.” He was quiet, and Jess reached to the radio as she adjusted the music station.

“Good.”

The cold November air was chilling to the touch as they both stepped out of the car. The doors slammed, echoing in the quiet night, only the sound of waves below to precede and follow it. Their drive hadn’t been completely depressing, as Jess asked him how the game went and he gave her his recollection of it. He told her that he had taken down the Hillcrest player who groped her a few times throughout the second half, and that the Coach warned him not to antagonise the other team over what had occurred on the field, but he did anyway, making Jess laugh. He had tried to ease her suffering, her restless thoughts, before they could wander to thoughts of Bryce, of what lay ahead. He talked to her most of the way, made her laugh, made her listen to him and smile. He figured that she had been ruminating over this all night, and the last thing she needed was his questions. So he asked none. It was unconditional, he thought, it didn’t matter what Bryce wanted or what Jess thought was going to happen, there was nothing that could stop him from going with her. Not a car, not a drug, not a person, not a goddamn thing in the world.

Jess grabbed her phone from her back pocket, she turned on the flashlight and shone it out over Navy Pier. They saw nothing. Nobody. She flicked the light off and her hand dropped to her side.

“C’mon,” she stepped away from the car and down to the Pier. Justin followed, glancing around the abandoned waterside without letting Jess out of his sight. She walked with a distinct purpose, nimbly opening the gate and stepping through with the confidence of a girl who had been wronged, who had been hurt and had recovered, about to confront the person that had caused her distress.

“Be careful,” he whispered, “the boardwalk is covered in used needles, no one ever cleans it.” She walked as he said, carefully, and he followed at her side. They came to the boardwalk, and saw no one standing where Bryce promised to be standing. Still following Jess, he looked down at the planks ahead, and saw a figure lying under the moonlight. “What the fuck…” They came closer and he realised that the bloodied figure was, in fact, Bryce Walker. They were two steps from the coughing, spluttering footballer, when Justin stopped, and Jess with him. His hand went to her arm with a warning, a gentle one, that something was wrong.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Jess asked, not even trying to hide her lack of compassion. She crossed her arms over her chest, studying him in the small amount of moonlight. Bryce coughed, blood dripped from his mouth, his nose, his cheek. Everywhere. Justin couldn’t even bring himself to care.

“Zach,” he groaned, “Zach came and he fucking beat me. And he left me to die. Fuck. Please, please, help me?”

“Help you?” Jess repeated. “I would never help you.” She glanced over to Justin. He looked just as disinterested.

“Bryce, what the fuck do you want?” Bryce sighed, he looked up at them both as best he could.

“A tape.” They both huffed at him, at the meaning of it all. “I swear, I’m not trying to be funny, or obnoxious, or fucking whatever. Okay. It’s just a tape.”

“What’s on the tape?” Jess asked through gritted teeth.

“A confession, I guess. To everything I did. To you. To others. And an apology. Which you don’t have to listen to, if you don’t want to. You wouldn’t hear me out in person, so, I thought that maybe a tape would be easier. You can play it for whoever, or nobody. You can burn it, break it. Whatever you want. Just…could you play it for Mrs Baker?” Jess scowled.

“Why would I do that? You’ve already hurt her more than anything, and I don’t want to contribute to that anymore than I already have.”

“Jess, please.” Bryce begged. “I’m trying to change but this fucking world won’t let me.” Jess scoffed, turning to glance at her boyfriend who rolled his eyes.

“This world won’t let you? What the fuck does that mean, Bryce?” He let out an anguished sob, straining to look up at his company.

“Just, please, take the tape.” He grimaced in pain as he tried to move. “It’s in the left pocket of my jacket.” Justin stepped forward, reaching down to search his jacket for the tape. His hands touched a patch of wet blood, when he looked down, he saw it shine in the moonlight. Fucking Zach, he thought. Searching deeper, ignoring the groans of pain from Bryce, he finally found the plastic tape buried in the tall pocket.

“Nice jacket,” he muttered, “it’s gonna need a wash tomorrow.” Bryce just whimpered in response as Justin went to stand beside Jess again. He handed her the tape, and she shoved it inside her own pocket, not even giving it a glance. She pulled on Justin’s arm, beginning to turn her back on the bloodied rapist at their feet. He went to follow but felt guilty leaving Bryce like this. “Jess, should we help him?”

“You’re not serious are you?” She looked between the two, her conflicted boyfriend and her rapist bleeding out on the boardwalk. “Maybe, we can just call 911, or something?” Justin shook his head.

“No, he’ll talk. He’ll tell them it was Zach.” He looked desperately at Jess. “Bryce has already broken his leg, I can’t let him destroy the rest of Zach’s future as well.” Jess looked out at the waves rolling across the sea, it was pitch black and the crashes sounded distant as she mulled over her decision.

“Zach destroyed his own future when he came out to get revenge.” Bryce coughed, agreeing with Jess.

“Please, take me to the hospital, or take me home. Please?” Justin rolled his eyes, glancing at the rapist.

“Shut the fuck up, Bryce.” He turned back to Jess as he considered what to do, staring out at the water and running a hand over his face. “We’ll take him to the hospital. Just drop him off. Leave him there.”

“If we take him to the hospital Zach gets arrested, you idiot.” Jess argued.

“Yeah, well, he’d be facing a murder charge if we leave him here and he dies.” She rolled her eyes.

“Fuck you. I can’t believe this.” He walked back over to Bryce, leaning down.

“We’re gonna take you to the hospital,” he told him, “and we’re gonna drop you off, and you’re not gonna say a fucking word about it to anyone. Got it? You can’t remember who did this. If you talk I’m fucking going to make your life a living hell. I’ll leak your tape from Hannah all over Hillcrest, and they’ll kick you out without a second thought. If you change schools, I’ll release it there too. You could move fucking continents and I will follow you and I will make your life hell. You thought it was bad now? I can make it much worse. If they ask you who did this, if they won’t stop pressing for information. You can tell them it was me.” Jess’ attention piqued, she took a step closer.

“Justin–“

“Tell them it was me. Not Zach. Me.” He stood up straight, and made sure Bryce understood what was at stake. Jess yanked on his arm and forced him to face her.

“So you can’t ruin Zach’s life, but you can ruin your own?” He shrugged.

“I’ve done my six months, what’s a few more?” She swore under her breath at him, knowing he wasn’t going to let it go. He handed her the car keys and she pulled out her phone. Hooking his arms under Bryce’s he was able to drag him across the boardwalk with Jess’ hand on his shoulder, guiding him in case he slipped and they both fell off the Pier. Bryce cried out in pain. He yelled, he groaned, he swore. He cursed Zach’s name. Justin responded to every curse Bryce made with a ‘shut the fuck up’ and imagined that he was dragging Bryce over a field of used needles.

“Why the fuck are you so heavy?” Justin let him go and Bryce fell to the ground with a cry. Jess walked back, seeing that he was exhausted.

“I can pick up his feet, if you want. We can carry him.” Justin looked at her, he wasn’t sure.

“Only if you’re okay with it. You can drop him whenever you need to.” She nodded, going around to lift his feet. “This might hurt him more, but it’ll be easier for us to get him in the car.” Jess scowled.

“You’re cleaning his blood out of my car tomorrow.” He didn’t argue. They lifted him and shuffled down the boardwalk. Bryce’s muffled sobs were painful just to listen to, but they weren’t undeserved. Justin thought about the sight of Zach lying on the field, motionless as he groaned in pain. He remembered Zach telling him it was number 82, that it had happened during the fight while he was wrestling a Hillcrest player that shouted obscenities at Jess on the field. But no, it was Bryce, and Justin should have known, he should have guessed. When his eyes met Bryce’s he could see the pain and the rage that he knew the violence of first hand.

“You’re not getting anymore fucking Oxy,” Bryce spat, “you two fucking set me up. Didn’t you? You fucking knew Zach was coming.” Justin adjusted his grip on Bryce, struggling to carry his weight even with Jess’help.

“Shut the fuck up, Bryce. We didn’t set you up. You did this to your fucking self.” Jess was looking at him curiously.

“What Oxy? Justin, what is he talking about?” He shrugged his shoulders as they reached the car.

“I don’t know, he's not thinking straight. He’s lost too much blood.” The cold look in her eyes refused to believe him, but they had bigger problems right now. She dropped Bryce’s legs and opened the door to the backseat. “Bryce can you use your fucking arms, maybe?” He muttered in response.

“Fuck you, Justin. This is humiliating.” He lifted himself onto the edge of the backseat, dragging himself into the car as Justin lifted his legs.

“Yeah, well, ever think maybe you deserve it?” Jess sighed.

“Justin, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to piss you off.” Once Bryce was lying across the backseat of Jess’ car, his bloody head rested on the window, and his broken legs werearched, leaning against the leather seats. When Jess got into the drivers seat, and Justin the passenger seat, Bryce gave a small, mocking chuckle in his dazed and painful state.

“Wait…are you two fucking?” He laughed under his breath, watching them both ignore him. “You are. You’re fucking. Jesus. This is a surprise. Alex told me you dumped him for some obnoxious asshole, he didn’t tell me it was Justin though.” Jess scowled.

“It’s none of your fucking business.” She pulled out of the Pier, taking a left turn and starting out her drive to the hospital.

“No it’s not my business. It’s no one’s. Cause, you got that feminist group at Liberty, don’t you? Those girls from the field tonight. Your jock hating, man hating, sexually liberated rape victims from, what did Monty call it? HO? I bet they wouldn’t be too happy with youtwo dating, would they? No one would.” He chuckled a laugh, looking over at Justin. “No one wants to date a fucking heroin addict, a drug addict. No one wants to date someone who has fucking nothing to his name, no one to call family. You’re still a junkie, still nothing to anyone. Still a nobody.” Jess slammed on the brakes. They all jolted out of their seats, Bryce’s face slamming into the back of Justin’s seat with a shout, and Jess almost going face first into the steering wheel.

“Bryce,” her voice was low and angry, “I think you should shut the fuck up before I kill you myself. Or worse.” Bryce wasn’t fazed though, his taunting smile only widened.

“Does she know? Does she know, Justin? Have you told her?” Jess started the car again but she drove in caution. Her eyes darted between the two passengers.

“What do I know?” She asked.

“Bryce, just shut the fuck up or I swear to god.” He just laughed again, coughing and grimacing at the pain.

“Jess, your boyfriend didn't tell you. He’s been using for months. He was dealing too, and he got busted. I bailed him out and he’s been using the expensive shit since. I’ve been giving him my Oxy. How does that make you feel?” He gave her a bloody toothed smile from the backseat. The Bryce Walker that had existed for the last few months, the one who wanted to repent, the one who wanted to be better, disappeared forever in that moment. He was the psychopathic, entitled and despicable monster he had always been.

“You’re lying,” Jess responded. “He’s clean. He has been for months.” Justin sighed.

“No, Jess. He’s telling the truth.” She let out a short breath, frustrated and hurt by the fact that he had been lying to her for so long.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” she decided, “we’ll finish this talk tomorrow.” Bryce just smirked in the backseat, his eyes rolling back into his head as he began to lose consciousness.

The drive to the hospital was short, Jess pulled up outside, quickly running inside to catch the attention of a nurse working late as Justin dragged an unconscious and badly wounded Bryce from the car. The nurse came bounding out the entrance, the automatic doors sliding open as she followed Jess.

“Do you know how it happened?” She asked the two of them, they both shook their heads.

“No,” Jess told her, “we found him like this by Navy Pier. He passed out on the ride here, he never told us who did it.” More nurses came running outside with a stretcher in tow, they shooed Justin and Jess out of the way as they lifted the unconscious Bryce Walker up. The first nurse turned to Jess and Justin, she gave a polite smile to them both.

“Thank you for bringing him in. Do you know the victim personally? Know their family, anyone we could call?” They both exchanged looks.

“Bryce Walker,” Justin said, “I don’t know how to contact his mom, I’m sorry. Her name is Nora Walker, though.” The nurse nodded.

“Thank you, we have records. I’ll find them,” she turned to follow as the stretcher was being wheeled back inside, “and it was very kind of you both to bring him in. His injuries don’t look life threatening, but it would be incredibly painful for him.” Giving the nurse a polite smile each, they waited until she was gone before they both let out sighs of relief. Jess turned to him, and he saw the look in her eyes was a mess of emotions. She looked like she wanted to yell, laugh and walk away all at once, but instead a tear fell down her cheek.

“I fucking hate him,” she whispered, “and I don’t want you to go to fucking jail for Zach.” She wiped the tear away and let out a frustrated cry. “God, why the fuck did we do this?” He pulled her into a hug, and she buried her face into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“I just wanted that stupid tape,” she said. “This night was supposed to go so well, and it just didn’t. Homecoming was a lost cause and now you could be arrested, or Zach could be. Could it get any worse?” Still holding her, Justin nodded.

“Yeah, it could. At least we didn't leave him to die. Then we’d really be fucked.”


End file.
